Ink in The Rye
by windscarlet
Summary: After her favorite bookstore goes out of business, Kagome's friends drag her into a chain bookstore and challenge her to become close with a guy, her only guide a bestselling dating book; since she's rejected every date offer she's ever received. If she falls in love, she must confess. Of course, she's too stubborn to back down from the bet- until she finds out who her target is.
1. Through the Rabbit Hole (Or Doors?)

**Prologue: Through the Rabbit Hole. **

**(Or Doors. Whatever.)  
**

**A/N: I am back with an AU, apparently. I mean I have like two other fanfics I've been writing and this the one that came out first. ;;;**

**As much as I love to write fanfics, just a warning: I'm currently in senior year so I have no idea when I will update next because right now I have a lot of things to take care of. Too much future. **

**So expect this to be erratic for a little while. But either way thanks for reading! : )**

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**Note: **_Do you think Alice ever thought about what she might be getting into when she followed the white rabbit? I sure didn't._

_Then again, if you never get yourself into anything, you don't become anything at all._

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"This isn't a surprise. It's a terrible nightmare."

"Oh, come on, Kagome," Ayumi begged, "I bet it won't be as bad as you're making it out to be." Oh yes, yes it is.

"Why. _Why_ did you three think it was a good idea to take me to a _chain_ bookstore?"

"Well, we all know how much you loved _Ink in the Rye_ before it, uh...you know." Eri took a quick side glance at me and shifted her weight to her right foot, dodging the still-sensitive topic.

"You mean before it closed?" Yuka shushed Ayumi promptly after she had let the words slip. It's not like it would have made a difference.

"You took me. To the same monstrosity of a chain bookstore. That caused my favorite place to go out of business due to its dominance in competition?" I pivoted on my heel to face the three of them directly behind me, eyes widened in anticipation for the rant that was barely curled behind my tongue.

"Like this concrete-and-cinderblock attention whore needs anymore membershipped prisoners! Sure, they sell hundreds of books in their physical form, their wonderfully stale vanilla scented pages and uncracked spines 'n all, but _god forbid_ if they didn't sell _eBooks and dumb knick-knacks_! They'd keel over and choke on their missing change!" I hate digital books. I really do. I know it's extremely biased of me, but I need to feel the weight of the words cradled in my hands, the spine cracking as the story unfolds itself with each page I turn. One may argue that it's silly and carrying multiple books is an inconvenience, but I don't do convenience. I want things that are real. Tangible. Like my old bookstore. Sango- the daughter of the owners of the bookstore, and a long-term close friend- had told me that her mom didn't believe in digital books, and that their bookstore only sells real books. Besides bookmarks and booklights, of course, but those are pretty much bookstore staples.

"No one cares about what's in the middle these days! They just want everything served to them cheap on a plastic platter- where's the value?! What makes it stan…"

I suddenly realized I was yelling rather loudly, and that it also sounded like a bunch of nonsense to anyone who heard me. Besides the perplexed eyes of a few strangers in the mall parking lot, my friends were also quietly staring at me, looking a little freaked out. I sighed, straightened my posture and turned back around to face the automatic doors, sucking in a steady breath through my teeth, or it _would have_ been steady if something hadn't caught my eye. It was a split-second blur, like watching glass crack before it actually breaks. The cup tip over before it spills. The crest of a wave foam moon white before it crashes and floods you- then before you know it, the water is gone, as if it had been no more than an illusion. A daydream.

And I thought, _who in the world has white hair? And were those...dog ears?_

I couldn't pinpoint exactly why I thought they were canine and not cat ears or something, except that something about it (or them) felt oddly familiar.

"K-Kagome, are you alright…?" It wasn't until I heard Yuka's voice that I realized I'd been holding my breath, so I cleared my throat to make it seem like I had been preparing to say something this whole time. As much as I didn't want to so much as _blink_ in the direction of this stupid bookstore one more time, my curiosity had gotten the better of me.

"Fine. Because you took the time to drag me all the way here at ten in the morning on a Sunday, I _guess_ we'll go inside." With the least amount of hesitation I could manage so as not to contradict the certainty in my voice, I allowed the automatic doors to welcome me in, the faint smell of books and coffee in the air no longer concealed. The last barrier standing between me and the white rabbi- uh, I mean, the _bookstore_\- were these two heavy, glass-paned and bronze-metal barred doors that I'm guessing are the _push_ kind, I think. Who the heck puts real doors in after the automatic ones? That has to be one of the dumbest design ideas for a building ever. I pushed open the door on the right and entered the bland, colorblocked white-and-green eyesore that is Barnes &amp; Noble, save for most of the unfortunate books shelved there, begging any browsing customer to take them to a better place.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't being bitter.

Eri walked up beside me, the others following behind her. "Where do you want to go first? Your favorite genre section or something? Graphic novels?"

"Um," I quickly scanned around the area, but it all felt hopelessly foreign. And vegetable green. And dirty-dinner-plate white. "I guess we can just walk around, you guys know this place better than I do." Eri nodded and motioned me to follow her, passing the bestseller table in the front of the store.

"Ooh, _The Maze Runner_," Ayumi noted, picking it up as she passed it, "You read it right, Kagome? Was it any good?"

"Better than good. You like sci-fi a lot, don't you? I think you'd like it," I said, looking up and down the shelves, trying to to see if any titles caught my eye, that is until I realized we had suddenly stopped in front of a few celebrity magazines- and while nothing is attractive about those concerning substance, they are admittedly _eye-catching_.

"Ooh, they have the details on that new scandal of that AKB48 idol-" Eri began before I curtly cut her off with the monotone, blunt knife of my voice.

"I thought we were here to look at actual books, or at least magazines that don't try to convince me how the _world-shattering_ impact of inflated celebrity gossip conjured by editors expert on the subject of conspiracy theories should remain the center of my existence." Eri sighed and placed the issue back on its rack, the obnoxious glare of its cover unfaltering, re-assuming her position as the lead tour guide instantly as she took a few strides ahead of me.

"Alright, but they are undoubtedly screaming to be read- I mean, she secretly had a boyfriend whom she was having _relations_ with on a regular basis, _and_ she smokes! How is that _not _tempting to you?"

"The stories of individuals of any age cracking under the pressure of society and social media are both banal and depressing. Not to mention over-reproduced," I muttered as if I had never been more bored in my entire seventeen years of life.

"Well, _geez _Kagome," Yuka's voice began with a biting dose of sarcasm, and I could almost hear the taunt before she actually spoke it, "Perhaps you don't find it so tempting since you've never had a boyfriend yourself."

That's when my balance faltered as I stumbled to a stop and whipped my head around at about 45 degrees, shooting her an incredulous look. One would think that was a low blow for a friend to pull, but under my circumstances, this was no more than my signature punchline. Everyone has at least one behavioral pattern that causes them to be the occasional brunt of a joke among friends, right? Well, this is mine. One of them, anyway.

"I-I…don't know what you're talking about," I muttered. Wrong. Wrong thing to say; I practically fueled the conversation to continue.

Yuka took a step closer to me, all raised eyebrows and a provoking smile. "Oh? You mean to tell me that you forgot that your highschool reputation includes rejecting every single confession and date offer from a boy for the past two years?"

"You make it sound as if I've rejected dozens of times!"

Eri had turned to me now, with an expression similar to Yuka's, perhaps a bit milder. "We beg pardon, it's only been _two_ dozen."

"_Twenty-three_," I spat back, and the three of them just stared blankly back at me, as if it didn't make much of a difference. "And if you cared enough to be exact, a few of them have asked _more _than once."

Yuka poked at my shoulder playfully as another taunt breezed through her airy voice. "Yet you've refused every single time- are you sure you're not just an _androphobe_?"

_Ugh, not this again_, I thought as I squinted an irritated glare in her direction, though she remained unphased. In case you're wondering, androphobia is the fear of men, the equivalent opposite of gynophobia. This rumor had started sometime around the eleventh time I had rejected someone over a year ago, and it is one of the dumbest lies I've ever heard about myself. While I can't say even now that the origins of it are baseless, the "evidence" is so sleazy I'm surprised it's still managed to hold itself up. _It doesn't stop my friends from using it whenever they want to provoke me, either_, I inwardly groaned.

"No," I shook my head much more calmly than I actually was, and took a step back to give myself some personal space, almost knocking my backside into a bunch of cute little crafting magazines. "No. Jus...just because I barely speak to the opposite sex and lack any real friends that aren't female doesn't mean I'm afraid of them! That's not even _close_ to the real reason!"

"Then what is the real reason? You're smart and pretty, so why don't you loosen up once in a while?" Ayumi piped up from the corner of my eye, with the always chipper and spoonful-of-sugar kind of attitude that never failed to reflect in her voice. _Not you, too._ I sighed and mustered the energy to give them the explanation that they wouldn't understand.

"Um. The thing is that, I can't just accept some random offer like that from a guy, no matter how handsome he is! It's such a…," I gulped and wrung my hands as I forced out the next part, "_intimate_ request, at least I think it is. It's not that they don't seem nice, but I barely know any of them! If I don't know who they are, what they like, if I'd even much get along with them, well… you can't really call it a date, can you? It's just- or it would be- awkward? Yeah. That's mostly it." It had sounded way less pathetic in my head, I swear. Heroic, even. Yet again for the third time today (and in less than an hour), all three gave me that same blank stare. Why did I even bother?

Yuka blinked. "Well, I _get it_, Kagome," _No you don't,_ "but these days, you date to get to know the person. First dates are _supposed_ to be weird, you're trying to see if the person is date material. If you keep rejecting guys for something like that, well...you're sort of missing opportunities."

"I don't consider guys as opportunities until I know something about them that isn't already on their social media bio."

Eri shook her head. "But you can't just-"

"You two," Ayumi butted in, "so what if Kagome's a little old-fashioned? If she dates differently, it's not like we can make her think the way we do. It's better she has slightly higher standards than ones that are too low, right?" Bless your sugar-coated soul, Ayumi.

Eri cocked her head to the side. "Well, I guess you're ri-" Her sentence broke cleanly, as if someone had dropped a teapot and it had split in half. The other half belonged to Eri, who exchanged glances with her, and it could only mean the hellbirth of a new plan. A sly, slippery idea that they let suspend in the air between each other, gripped tight between breaths of newfound simultaneity. Oh god, this can't be good.

"If it's such an issue, we can _help_ you," Eri just smiled and strided past me, then suddenly disappeared around the corner of an aisle. By the look on Yuka's face, I had no choice but to follow her.

"_This_," I heard her say as I turned at the same corner she had with Ayumi and Yuka following behind me, the devilish grin on her face looking ominous as ever. "Is going to be your new best friend."

She curled her fingers around the spine of an unnamed book in the _bestsellers for this genre_ shelf, and shoved it in my face. Literally. I had to take a step back just so I could read the cover. It was an amethyst purple, with patches of pastel and dark purples as if it had been painted straight from the palette and mixed straight on the canvas, probably to make it resemble the colors of an actual amethyst. There were two yellow stars on opposite sides of the front cover, connected by a straight red line with a heart in the middle. It wasn't the cover that was bad (though it was definitely among the cheesiest I'd ever seen) as much as it was the title of the book and the genre it was that we happened to be standing in the aisle of.

It was the _relationship advice_ aisle. With two words separated by that red line. _Stars Uncrossed_. Pushing Eri's outstretched arms away, I swallowed and raised an eyebrow, looking very displeased. And I was.

"What is this?"

Yuka was now leaning against the bookshelves, a nonchalant expression on her face. "A bet. Well, a challenge, more like. If you're up for it."

My face twisted in confusion. "Pardon? I don't remember you two mentioning that you would propose me a bet."

Ayumi nodded. "Yeah, I'm not following you two either."

Yuka continued. "If what you're telling us is the truth, you want to know someone well before you start dating, right? Which is why you've rejected so many times."

She glanced at me for an affirmation, to which I looked down and reluctantly muttered, "More or less…"

Eri's voice didn't falter as she explained the details of my impending untimely fate. "Here's the deal: we're going to pick someone in this store who's around our age and male, and you're going to get to know him. If you don't like him, we'll pick someone else. If you become good friends with him, then that's fine. _But,_" the tone of Eri's next sentence became cold and calculating in a devious way, like when she answered a difficult math problem with pride in class, "if you fall in love with him, you _will_ confess to him. You have to."

I blinked a few times, processing the information. "Then what's the book for?"

"That's the current bestselling dating book exclusively for young women about our age demographic, _Stars Uncrossed_ by Ai Saoki," Yuka said matter-of-factly, "And that's also the only guide you will have for the next… sixty days, because we won't help you. At all. The closest you'll get to it is when we occasionally ask you questions about the guy, which may or may not include any hints or indirect advice. But if you don't think you're game for it, I guess you'll just have to admit-"

"I get it. I accept your proposal." I had spoken it so quickly, so certainly, I'm not even sure if I knew exactly what I was signing myself up for. I probably would have accepted either way though; I'm too stubborn to back down like that.

"Okay, then, here's the deal," if you haven't noticed yet, Eri says 'here's the deal' a lot, "You only have sixty days, which will act as a time cushion if you get too busy or sick or something. You have twenty to tell us whether you like him or not. You must answer our questions _honestly_\- your ability to tell white lies is one thing, but frankly, you're not good at actually lying, Kagome."

"Yeah, if you try to lie to us about something like, oh, if you say that you're not in love with the guy when you actually are, _we can tell_," Yuka added.

"It would be pretty easy," Ayumi noted, "your emotions read like an open book. Remember that one time-"

"Okay, _I get it_," I cut her off before she could say something that would further provoke me, "just tell me who this guy is."

All three of them exchanged glances, then walked out from the bookshelves into the open part of the store. I watched as Yuka pointed, then both of them would shake heads, then Eri pointed, to which both of them would shrug their shoulders with a doubtful look on their face. I prayed silently for three minutes while they took their sweet time deciding on who my challenge would be, and I'm not too religious; I just live at a shrine. I prayed that they wouldn't find anyone, that they'd just give up and say '_forget about it_,' and I could keep both my pride and my sanity without actually having to do anything. But it was not to be so. I looked back at them just in time to see Ayumi point in the opposite direction they had been looking. Eri and Yuka's first reactions were to frantically push down her outstretched pointing arm, nervously whispering as loud as they could without yelling, "no, 'Yumi! We're too close to be pointing like that, he'll see us!" After settling down, they all looked in the same direction, looked at each other, and began to giggle or snicker. _I am so done._

I watched with helpless dread as they nearly skipped over to me, silly smiles plastered on their faces. Before I could say anything, Eri's hands covered my eyes and my right hand was grasped by Ayumi, who guided me to the same spot they had just been standing in.

Yuka began talking as I walked blindly. "When you open your eyes, look at the register lanes. There are two young men that go to our public school and work here leaning against the counter next to each other since their shift probably hasn't started yet. The one you should be looking at is the guy who's reading."

I hadn't realized how clammy my palms had gotten until I had suddenly stopped. I am not nervous. I shouldn't be. This was no big deal. They're probably just playing a trick on me. It'll probably be Hojo or something, they never stop whining about why I'd even considered rejecting him…

"You can open your eyes now, Kagome," Ayumi chimed. Damn. I blinked my eyes open and searched for two people standing outside the register lanes. One was probably playing an app on his phone or texting, his dark hair tied back in a short ponytail. The guy next to him was the one that was reading. I couldn't exactly see what the cover was besides its colors from this distance, so I decided to recognize the features of the guy holding it. Let's see, loose white hair, dog ears- _oh, no._

Now I know why he looked familiar. He does attend the same high school as I do; the same grade, in fact. The person standing next to him is Miroku, who's one of the most extroverted people you'd ever meet. They'd been friends for a little while now, I think. But _him_\- I forget his name- he's known to be the complete opposite of Miroku: closed off, rude, a complete introvert. My friends knew this, of course; I'd be naive if I'd expected them to give me an _easy_ challenge.

Goodness, what was his name again? I...Inu-?

"Congratulations," Yuka said as she placed the dreaded book in my hands, which felt sticky and unpleasant, "your selected victim is the guy who rejects people at least just as much as you do- Inuyasha Takahashi. Good luck."

For a moment I felt as if the floor had collapsed on itself under my feet only. There was that fleeting moment of weightlessness before I realized I was falling. And there was a long, long way to go if I wanted to reach the end of the hole. Escape the sensation of falling.

I repeated his name to myself in my mind so that I could remember it.  
_  
Inuyasha… he's the white rabbit!?_

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**Expect the book puns and references to be a recurring thing because I am shameful.**


	2. (Prince?) Snow White & the Seventh Arrow

**Chapter One: (Prince?) Snow White and the Seventh Arrow**

**-o-**

**A/N: Fun fact- I've had this like 90% done for 3 months but I was stuck on the ending of this chapter. Also, any time I have to work on this chapter is time I should be spending on something else concerning senior year, but you know, whatever.  
**

**Also: In Japan there is a magazine titled Seventeen that is exactly like the western magazine by the same name here. That information was also completely useless.**

**I apologize for the long wait, but here it is- one serving of incessant book puns and sass disguised as an inukag fanfic. Whoops, did I write that out loud?**

**Any favorites or reviews are much appreciated in advance! : )**

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Note: _So the princess finds the prince asleep in his glass case. Except I'm just a girl, and the prince is actually just a jerkass who wears funny clothes. And the thing is, this jerkass prince brought his glass walls with him. He brings them everywhere._

_I wonder if it's because of an apple he ate?_

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"So today's _the day_?"

I could practically feel the excitement dripping from Eri's voice straight through my locker door, though I had no intention of closing it so I could see her face beaming with it, either. She tends to stand a bit too close for comfort anyway, even for me, and to be honest I really didn't want her to see my face. It had been a week since that bet fiasco at Barnes &amp; Noble, and no, I haven't started yet. I had to get a few things done before I really started devoting time to this stupid bet, and there was no way I was going to start the next day or something.

"Yes, it is," I said shakily, hoping I didn't sound quite as nervous as I felt, but I probably did. I unloaded the last textbook from my backpack and closed my locker, turning away from her as soon as I heard the distinct "click" of my lock, walking as calmly as I could.

"Hey, there's no reason to be so nervous!" I abruptly stopped walking and almost bumped into someone. _I guess my emotions really are open-book_, I thought as I heard Eri walk up behind me, and we continued to walk at the same pace towards the school parking lot.

"You have that book, remember?" I felt my eye twitch at the mention of that monstrosity. I had avoided touching that book as much as possible; in fact I had made my friends purchase it for me at the register while I had (rather tactfully) hidden behind a shelf. There was no way I'd ever be caught personally buying such a book, especially if it was going to be in front of the person who I had to make at least a decent first impression on if I wanted a chance at winning this. So far I haven't even grazed a page.

"Oh, yeah, _that thing_. I'm just relieved it's a jacket cover so I won't be caught holding it unless someone pries it from me spine up from my cold, dead fingers." Just to clarify, I removed the cover so its tacky appearance could be reduced to a muted, unremarkable, solid navy hardcover. Thank God.

We walked silently for little while towards our cars, which happened to be parked in the same section today. Once Eri had found her car keys after rummaging through both coat pockets and our cars had come into view, mine being a red Volkswagen Beetle, I was met with a playful look on her face. "If the book is such a nuisance, Kagome, you can give up early and-"

"No thanks. I am not going to lose this just because of some petty book for the _benefits_ of the losing punishment. In fact, I am already fully committed to this."

A sly smile appeared from the corner of my eye as I unlocked my car and stepped in, rolling the windows down to smother the stuffy air with the cold breeze as soon as I turned the car on.

"Really? Before you've even officially started? That's a bold statement," she inquired while bending down so her head was level with the open car window, "And what's the rush?"

"I have a new job," I started with a grin, "at a certain Starbucks in a certain Barnes &amp; Noble. See you!"

Eri just silently stared in disbelief as I backed out of my parking spot with a smug smile on my face and drove away.

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"_You_, a job inside the kind of place you claim you can't stand? And didn't you just tell me you were eating a doughnut?"

I took another bite of the said doughnut while sitting in the driver's seat, windows rolled down in the middle of the parking lot. It's Autumn, and that means pumpkin spice doughnuts at Dunkin' Donuts. My shift didn't actually start for another twenty-five minutes- it was starting late because I was being trained today, which meant I had some time to call Sango.

"A pumpkin donut, yes. What about it?"

"Aren't you technically funding their competition before you even start working there?"

I paused in thought for a moment before bringing the orange pastry back to my mouth. "Uh, no. Starbucks doesn't sell doughnuts. I'm not missing out on one of my favorite seasonal snacks just because Starbucks prefers to sell cake pops over fried rings of dough."

"...If you say so. But you're still working inside a chain bookstore."

"I guess, but I'm not directly working for them, either. And excuse my language, but I'll be damned before I lose this bet." _I definitely will be if I lose it, anyway._

"The losing punishment must be pretty bad."

"Oh, yes. Not only do I have to write a 500-word essay on why chain bookstores are better than independent ones, I must also buy a one year subscription to the _Seventeen_ magazine," I shuddered at the thought of being plagued by that mutated virus of a celebrity-slash-fashion magazine on a monthly basis, "and that's not even all of it. To top it all off, I must purchase a Barnes &amp; Noble Membership. A_ membership_!"

"Sounds like they're not joking around then, huh." Sango's voice was distant, as if she was concentrating on something else. She's probably sewing again; I pictured her with the phone between her ear and shoulder, slipping pins through the smooth, waxy surface of the tracing paper and the cloth that spilled out underneath before I had processed her reply.

"_Sounds like_? It'll be the end of me if I lose! I mean, I guess they're just trying to get me motivated and actually try this out. If you know what I mean."

"Yeah, you've never been very committed in the past when it came to projects."

"I am so!" I heard her sigh on the other line.

"Really? What about your last two jobs, both of which you quit after less than six months? Journalism for three weeks? AP History and English for a month and a half? At least half the stories you've written, which are supposedly "on hiatus?" Should I continue?"

"They were terrible jobs, journalism was a joke and provided me no challenges in writing, AP classes are scams because they speed through the material so fast you probably don't actually learn anything and is where thought process and creativity go to die while the concept of short-term memorization rises to the rank of Jesus, and I am a very busy person who gets writing block sometimes."

"The only thing you've really kept steady is archery club, your grades, your basic values, and your bookstore visits. You never actually stick anything out. Newsflash: sometimes pulling through things you don't necessarily like at first will end up gaining you something in the process. Maybe then you wouldn't be so _uncertain_ about everything."

I puffed out a sigh of defeat. Sango's bluntness is a double-edged sword: she tells you how it is, it's her way of showing her genuine concern. However, it's also her unlicensed ability to pick you and your dignity apart like a flock of seagulls with a single Doritos bag. If you haven't guessed, she is the army of seagulls. I am often the Doritos bag, preferably cool ranch.

"_Whateverfine_, but that doesn't count when it comes to relationships! I've been friends with you since we were nine. Eight years."

"This is more of a bet than it is a relationship at this point. You haven't even started."

"Ugh. And they obviously still didn't think I'd take this seriously! When I told Eri that I got a job there she was practically dumbfounded."

"So? You're a woman, aren't you? Prove them wrong. Get your guy."

"A bold statement concerning someone who I haven't even actually met, nor you. And for a strong feminist." When I have nothing else to offer in the quick wit department, I like to push Sango's feminist buttons; it's the only way to get her to stop verbally pounding me in exchange for a brief gender-justice lecture.

"Feminism is about equality. Though women don't need men to survive, in this case your survival is _satisfying_ the bet, not ensuring yourself a boyfriend. But don't use him or look at him like a device for a means to a preferred end- though I know you wouldn't do that. And I don't need to know him; I will sense if he ever tries something sleazy, _and trust me if I do_, I will _personally_ whoop his ass to oblivion. He will be limping until New Year's."

"I'm...sure you would. Are you talking about someone in particular?" I was met with silence on the other line, I couldn't even hear her breathing. Then all of a sudden I heard her exhale heavily, a sign that she was practicing a breathing exercise to calm herself down.

"You are talking about someone, aren't you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Just," Sango started, her voice the slightest shaky with residual anger, "no. I mean, it's not important. I'm fine, and you have to go to training and I need to make alterations on this dress."

"But-"

"You better call me later to tell me how it goes! Bye, Kagome." She hung up before I could reply. That was strange.

I checked the time on my cellphone and winced. I had nineteen minutes left now, and I should be there a little early, especially if I wanted to get some reading in. I gathered my things and climbed out of the car, making sure I locked it before walking away. I realized I still held a small piece of doughnut in my hand, and stuffed it in my mouth as I pushed open the second door leading into the bookstore, hoping it would stifle the queasiness I felt in my stomach.

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I had made sure to look presentable today (mostly for my training). I was wearing long purple pants that cuffed just above my ankles, black flats, and a simplistic, short-sleeved, black lolita-esque blouse with a small red bow at the collar. I took a quick glance at the register- no one I could recognize was there- and quickly ducked into the YA fiction section, making sure I was standing in a more secluded spot before pulling out the unsuspicious-looking dark blue hard cover that binded my only literary guide. I assumed the introduction to chapter one would be a good start.

-o-

**Chapter One: Obtaining his I.D.**

_"So you do you like this guy, or not?"_ This question is probably among the most irritating to be asked if you are reading this book for yourself. How should you know- you haven't even started dating him! Do you really even want to, though? Are you sure you actually really like him? It could be a daunting question that frustrates you to no end, but never fear, I have the simple solution to start you in the right direction to sever that very uncertainty. You're welcome.

Now, it doesn't matter if you've known him for months or barely even a second, it's impossible to start on the right path if you don't know what you're looking for. Yes, _what_. You must identify _what_ type of person he is before even beginning to find out _who_ he is.

The good news: it doesn't require breaking the law and stealing his wallet like the title implies. It's free, too.

The bad news: well, it's only bad news if you're shy or anxious. You're going to have to talk to him in order to complete the first step.

_Why? Is it really necessary to talk to him right away? What if he doesn't even know I exist?!1oneone_, is what some of you are screaming at me inside your heads right now. If you feel your veins collapsing, your heart compressing to the size of a walnut, your very sanity deteriorating just at the _fleeting thought_ of speaking to him, then I suppose you could attempt to gather the information from others, but do you really want to be questioned why you're asking around for his information or descriptions of him? Or worse, do you really want any info you scrape up to be based on rumors, or opinions that you may not have taken the same way as your source? It's better you get your own authentic perspective of him rather than someone else who may not view him exactly the same way. Plus, any topic relating to dating has something to do with eventually communicating and forming a (perhaps) intimate relationship; you were going to have to let him know that you're an actual living being that has a physical form at some point, so why not get it over with now? The sooner, the better, honey.

Mission Statement: I have provided you with a series of male stereotypes to get you started, and you need to pick the one your guy fits best. They may seem very generalized at first- which is because they are- but you probably don't know much about him at this point. If you think you do though, then you may skip to the STARGAZER test in chapter five. If not, well, here's your list, and good luck!

-o-

I began to skim over each stereotype title and what pages its analyzation corresponded to until I heard footsteps closing in behind me, and I promptly froze in place.

"Do you need help, miss?"

I yelped and scrambled to put the book back into my tote bag, spinning on my heel to face the young man standing no more than six feet away from me, and smiled nervously. It's not him, _thank god_. An employee about my age, but pulled back dark hair, dark eyes, and _human_ ears. I breathed a sigh of relief and straightened my posture, trying to look as calm as possible, even if it was already too late for that.

Instead of taking a step back, he took another step toward me and leaned over marginally to see my face better.

"I apologize if I scared you. I only wanted to make sure you weren't confused or anything. But I guess that book was yours, was it not?"

"U-Uh, no. Wait, yes. I mean, it's none of your business." I regretted the last part as soon as I said it, but my anxiety was spiked and I can't help but be embarrassed by even having the said book in close proximity to me, nevermind owning it. Saying I borrowed it could possibly sound worse.

He didn't move, but his eyebrows furrowed and he frowned slightly, his expression looking as if there had been a genuine misunderstanding.

"I meant no harm. You seemed a little...perplexed, and it kind of is my job to make sure you're not. That and taking your money lawfully."

I briefly laughed at his little joke and mindlessly adjusted the strap of the bag resting on my left shoulder.

"Sorry, you're right. It's just that I have job training today in this cafe here, and…" _and I have a bet I need to win that I wish I had never gotten myself into that I need to start today, but if I lose it's the end of my moral code and sanity,_ "you caught me off guard, so I got a little rude."

He smiled and took another step closer, there were now only three feet between us. I'm not that strict about my personal bubble, but I'd only been talking to him for barely a minute, so I had to fight the instinct to step back. I didn't want to be rude again.

"It's alright, it's not hard to become disconnected when you're reading. If you're going to start working at the Starbucks here, I can put in a good word for you."

"Oh. That's really nice of you- you barely even know me!"

"We go to the same school, don't we? I know enough, but-" he winked, "I could know more."

My eyebrow twitched as I cursed myself for feeling my cheeks and ears get warm, but I couldn't help getting flustered. As I tried to ignore the latter part of his statement, I suddenly remembered that I had seen him standing near _that guy_ last week.

"That's right, I-I've seen you before. Your name is...Miroku, right?"

He casually bowed. "At your service. Literally, because I work here. And yours is Kagome, I've heard...quite a pretty name to match a pretty face, if you ask me."

I kept still, but I felt my eye twitch this time, and before I could say anything else I heard Miroku gasp when he glanced at his watch.

"Oh, crap," he muttered, shaking his head, "that fool. Sorry again, but I'll have to cut this conversation short. You see, I'm looking for someone," he subconsciously leaned to the side to look behind me, "and he tends to go off on his own, and our shift starts in less than five minutes. Our manager is rather strict with the employees about time discipline, and as a friend I'd hate for him to get into trouble he doesn't have to get into. Also frankly, he needs me."

I tried to process his fast-talked mini essay of information, and I spoke without thinking, since I seem to be doing that a lot lately. "I don't think I've seen who you're looking for, but I have about ten minutes more of spare time than you do-I can find him for you, if you like."

Then he smiled- like, really smiled. His smile wasn't infectious, but it was both welcoming and warm, and his eyes had become focused, invested in the source of his momentary happiness with genuine interest.

"Would you do that for me? He's probably sitting between a bookshelf and a wall or some sort of corner like the strange guy he is. He probably just fell asleep again while reading. Just tell him I sent you get him because our shift starts soon and he won't be so grumpy when you wake him up. I think."

"You think." He shrugged. I just sighed; it's not like I hadn't signed up for this. "Any leads, then?"

He pointed an outstretched arm to his right, which would be my left. "He has to be on this floor on this side of the store. I already checked the other side- and by the way, he's the only person here wearing bright red pants, no question about it. Bring him back to the registers when you find him."

I nodded and began to speedwalk in the guided direction as I heard him call "thanks again!" from behind me. I browsed the aisles of bookshelves up and down throughout the whole left side of the store, but he was nowhere to be found. I began to panic as it had already been a minute and a half according to the stopwatch on my phone, so I came to a stop in the middle of the store, a person pushing past me as I tried to clear my head.

_Think, Kagome._ What did Miroku say again? He was probably napping, so my target is stationary, and he's on this side. I used to nap in Sango's old bookstore. _"He's probably sitting between a bookshelf and a wall or some sort of corner..."_

That's it.

There was a part of the wall that jutted out in _Ink in the Rye_, and it boxed in the farthest corner of the store, a three-foot space sandwiched between two bookcases. It was always my favorite place to nap- perhaps there was something similar here?

I was basically going on the moment of a feeling, but it's not like I haven't been doing that often recently, either. I perused the inside of the same aisle and sure enough, I spotted a place where the wall awkwardly jutted out, and inwardly rejoiced. _He has to be here; you're such a genius, Kagome!_ My self-appraisal pumped the energy into my legs as I practically sprinted to the other side of the corner, breathing in a smile as I peered over the end of the bookcase that sandwiched a five-foot space between another bookcase.

Sure enough, there was someone there. But as I walked closer, that someone I saw knocked that energy out my legs and I felt my smile fall as I found myself standing less than ten feet in front of him.

It was him.

It's not that I was scared, because I wasn't; I just hadn't been expecting...to meet him now, so soon. I didn't connect the dots. I should have assumed that the friend Miroku was looking for was the same guy I had seen him standing near last week. _What were you thinking, Kagome?_

He is definitely the guy I was looking for- he is wearing bright red pants, a black button-down shirt with cuffed mid-sleeves, and is definitely napping with a book on his chest.

His hair is white- snow white- and it's long enough to spread out on the floor and frame his face. It's also a little messy, especially on the top of his head, though the cowlicks fail to conceal a pair of relaxed dog ears poking out. He has olive skin, which is darker than one would think for someone with such fair hair. The open book on the left side of his chest is red, and though the back cover and some of the spine is obscured by his right hand, the front isn't, and I could make out the title from this distance.

_The Seventh Arrow, A Clockwork Fairytale._ Huh. I've never read that one before. In fact, I don't think I've even heard of it yet, but it sounds interesting.

Taking a deep breath- I hadn't realized I'd been holding it- I walked close enough to crouch in front of him and shook his shoulder as firmly as I could while still trying to be gentle.

"Hey," I mumbled, then continued with a stronger voice, "hey. You're asleep, aren't you? Wake up."

He must be a light sleeper, because he began to stir almost immediately, thick eyebrows furrowing as he sat up. I pulled the book off his chest before it slid off completely, keeping my thumb on the page and watching as he leaned forward, rubbed his eyes and yawned, his flattened ears perking up and twitching towards the new source of sound.

Yellow eyes blinked open and focused on me, both the said newest source of sound and the subject of his confusion. Or possibly great displeasure, there was no way of knowing until he said something. Unfortunately, the brief scowl that appeared on his face made me fear for the latter as he sniffed the air a second time.

"Who the hell are you?" His voice was thick with sleep and serrated with mild irritation.

I blinked twice at his curt greeting, if you could call that one.

"I-I'm, uh…" _Why am I stuttering? ?_ I shouldn't be nervous, I only just met him!

Forcing myself to pull it together in response to his impatient, drowsy stare, I managed to form an explanation in two quick sentences.

"You have a shift that starts in less than two minutes. Miroku asked me to find you, so I woke you up." That came out choppier than I'd like to admit.

Grunting, he stood up slowly and began to rotate his shoulders, which _kriked_ from their awkward position during his nap.

"Miroku, eh? Of course, the lazy idiot uses any excuse to talk to a girl and throws _me_ in the mix," he muttered rather displeased, then realized something was missing, his eyes stopping at my right hand that was holding his book, thumb-in-page.

Give me my book and run along, girl." Just like his voice, his eyes were a pair of scissors ripping through my now paper-thin patience.

I'm not sure exactly what about him set me off, but in just a few short moments I'd already had enough of his rudeness and shot up on my feet. "Girl? I have a name, you know! What kind of thank you is that? I didn't have to run around a store I can't stand before job training to help some stranger that I've never met!"

He pouted angrily. "Well, I never asked you to!"

"You don't think I know that? That's what they invented the phrase _"thank you"_ for- or is that missing in the dictionary for uncivilized brutes?!" Whoa, I was coming on much stronger than usual when I chewed someone out. I need to calm down.

"You don't get a reward for every _"good samaritan"_ deed you pull in life- but I guess that's not something a petulant broad would understand!" He spat back with equal venom. Screw calming down.

I gasped at the quickly-served insult. "I hope you're late to your shift and get fired!"

"I hope you screw up your job training and get fired before you even start!"

"Whatever, you dumb idiot!" I countered, turning my back on him and walking away.

"Right back at you, you stupid idiot!" He called after me.

Realizing I still held his book in my hand, I stopped in my tracks and threw it at him, a flurry of pages meeting his face. I was hoping the book would make a satisfying thud on the ugly chain-carpet floor, but he just caught it in his hands, most likely due to his demonic dexterity. Asshole.

"I hope you forgot what page you were on!" I retorted, stomping away again.

"Sorry, but I clearly remember I was two pages into chapter three!"

"Hmph. Good for you!" I sneered from a distance, causing a few heads to turn in my direction, but I didn't care. I had a job training to go to because of this stupid bet.

But the joke's on Eri, Yuka, and Ayumi anyway, because this bet is for nothing- I _know_ I'm going to hate him.

In fact, I already do.

_.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._

**No? No one else thinks Snow White is a good metaphor for Inuyasha?  
Or Sango the sewing feminist? NO?  
Okay, I'll just show myself out the door, then.**


End file.
